bitter, You will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth, You will again bring me up.
The verse from Psalm seventy-one had seen Trent through some of his rockiest days. Both before and after Lauren’s death.
Growling echoed from his midsection. Perhaps some breakfast would improve his perspective. Not to mention a good cup of coffee. That weak stuff they served at the motel wasn’t close to cutting it. Too bad Ouray didn’t have a Starbucks.
Warmth bathed his back as the sun peered over the mountain behind him. He’d never tire of this scenery. The peace and tranquility it offered were what he longed for when he learned of the temporary opening in Ridgway.
He glanced at the Community Center where he’d once had the privilege of escorting Blakely to a dance. Sure, they’d been young—Blakely fresh out of high school—but the bond they’d forged that summer went beyond special. They “got” each other in a way no one ever had. Soul mates. Kindred spirits. With her, he’d felt accepted for the first time. Even loved. And he’d loved her, too.
So why hadn’t she told him he had a child? More important, why did she seem to think he did know?
Raking his fingers through his hair, he prayed she and their son could one day forgive him.
At the corner of Main Street, he waited for a large motor home to lumber past. Once the exhaust dissipated, the most amazing aroma captivated his senses. He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of roasting coffee beans. Lifting his gaze, he spotted what was sure to be his favorite new spot: Mouse’s Chocolates & Coffee.
Maybe he wouldn’t pine for Starbucks after all.
He hurried across the street.
“What can I get you?” A bubbly blonde, barely old enough to be out of high school, smiled behind the counter.
After eyeing the menu, he said, “How about a tall Americano?”
“We only have one size, sir. Sixteen ounces.”
“That’ll work.”
Cup in hand, he paused at the corner. Less than a block away, the vacancy sign at The Alps Motel glowed red-orange. Apprehension kept his feet glued to the sidewalk. Were Blakely and his son there? Or did they live in one of the apartments over The Jeep Company—make that Adventures in Pink?
He wanted—needed—answers.
“Trent?”
Turning, he found Blakely’s grandmother, Rose Daniels, smiling up at him. He couldn’t help smiling back. The woman who’d provided him with many a meal that summer and more cookies than he’d had in all the years since had always held a special place in his heart.
“I was hoping I might run into you.” Sincerity sparkled in her blue eyes. “Blakely mentioned you were back in town.”
That must have been an interesting conversation.
“It’s great to see you, Mrs. D.” A motorcycle sputtered past, its engine mimicking the chug-chug of his heart.
“I hear you’re working in Ridgway?”
“At the medical clinic. Yes.”
“Wonderful.” A wisp of white hair escaped her tight bun to dance about her round face. “Bill would have been so happy to know that you achieved your dream of becoming a doctor.”
“I was sad to hear he’s no longer with us. He was probably the greatest man I ever had the pleasure of knowing.” Trent observed the rows of colorful Victorian buildings that lined Main Street. How he wished he could thank Bill for the impact he’d had on his life. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Someday.
“Would you like some help with those?” He gestured to the green reusable grocery sacks that dangled from Rose’s capable hands.
“That would be lovely. Thank you, Trent.”
He gathered the trio of bags in one hand and started in the direction of The Alps, making sure to abbreviate each stride so Rose wouldn’t feel rushed.
“How long have you been back in Ouray?” She carefully maneuvered down the sloped sidewalk. No matter where you went in this town, you were either walking up or down hill.
“Since Sunday. I’m staying at the San Juan Inn.”
“What?” She sent him a sideways glance. “Not The Alps?”
“Uh...” The muscles in his jaw tightened. The Alps had been his first inclination.
She nudged him with her elbow. “I’m teasing. The San Juan Inn is a wonderful choice.”
Relaxing, he eyed the planters of red, white and purple flowers that graced the front stoop of the Daniels’ home. The picket fence surrounding the tiny yard added an old-world charm to the beige two-story that also housed the motel’s office.
Rose held open the gate, and he followed her to the door, his desire for answers getting the best of him.
“Tell me about my son.”
The old woman looked bewildered for a moment before a proud smile erupted. “Austin is a good boy. Kind, friendly, active.” She chuckled on the last word. “And he looks just like his father.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.” He glanced down at a small patch of grass, emotion clogging his throat.
“You will.”
“I promise, Mrs. D, I never knew. If I had...”
She laid a wrinkled hand on his shoulder. “Neither Bill nor I ever doubted you, Trent. We may not have understood, but we never stopped praying for you.”
He studied the woman in front of him, who, even now, after everything that had happened, made him feel loved. So confident. Wise. Caring.
Somehow, he had to make things right.
She reached for the doorknob, turned it, but the door refused to budge. “Oh, this silly thing.” She shoved one more time and it jerked open. “Bill had planned to put in a new one this winter.”
Only then did Trent notice the weather-worn wood on the bottom half of the door. “Well, I’m pretty handy. If you’re not in a big rush to get it fixed, I’d be happy to take care of that for you.”
“Only if you’ll let me pay you.”
“I won’t hear of it.” He handed her the bags. “However, you do make the best peanut butter cookies I’ve ever had.”
That earned him a grin.
“You can have all you want.”
“So is Blakely at Adventures in Pink?”
“Should be.”
He raised his coffee cup. “Wish me luck.”
“I’ll do you one better.”
